BA Season 4: 119 - Liberty
by The Barracuda
Summary: The phoenix is free from its prison and after Alexander, Trinity is in police custody, Xanatos gambits to find a cure for Fox and Elisa faces a life-threatening delivery in Japan, with her only salvation being Demona.


**#119 - "Liberty"**

"_You can't separate peace from freedom because no one can be at peace unless he has his freedom."_ \- Malcolm X

_Japan, Ishimura_

Elisa stared at Demona in her human form. It felt like decades since last she saw her husband's ex and here she was, standing confidently in the doorway to the little infirmary as if the entire situation wasn't completely bizarre. "...you're...going to help me...?"

A few long strides forward. "Yes."

"How...?"

Demona was at the foot of the bed now, her gaze focused on Elisa's bulging, shivering midsection.

"...what's wrong with me...?"

She leaned over to put a hand on Elisa's stomach but hesitated, before ultimately resting it on the taught flesh. It was as if she could feel the energy coursing through every strand of DNA. "There's powerful magic running rampant through you. Primal. Ancient." Her eyes flicked up, cold as ice. "And it's tearing your fragile human body apart."

"Then what can we do?" Diane asked hurriedly, words slurring together.

Demona just stared at the woman.

"You must be able to help her..."

"Perhaps." She stood up, shoulders back and her head high; her distaste for the room swaggered through her features. "First of all, I need her moved out of this pathetic excuse for an infirmary."

Peter stood up. He was already wary of Demona despite the years of an uneasy truce. "Where do you suggest?"

"Somewhere larger, less cluttered...serene..."

"I know of a room." Hoshi offered. He politely bowed into the conversation from where he'd been keeping his distance. "It is spacious and far from any distraction."

"Good."

* * *

"Good." Demona had wandered the room several times, soaking in the details of a chamber seemingly untouched by the modern world. Several corridors away from the sterility of the temple's infirmary and lit only by several paper lanterns hanging from the exposed beams, it was strangely comforting. "This is much better."

"Better?" Peter repeated. "You've yet to tell any of us what you plan to do..."

"You wouldn't understand." she dismissed him nonchalantly.

"You'd be surprised at what I know, especially after years of living it on a daily basis. You're going to use more magic to remove whatever magic's currently killing my daughter."

Demona turned and finally acknowledged him, albeit with a simple dissecting glare. "Very astute, human."

"Says the woman wearing human flesh." Peter retorted.

Ignoring him, Demona prepared herself for the task at hand. If only the future Elisa had given her fair warning of what she was practically guilted into doing she would've brought a spellbook or two. But millennia of studying the arcane had imprinted more than a few spells in her memory and she hoped one of them would be the key. "I'd rather do this while in my proper form but I doubt you'll survive until sunset." Demona said. "If the little Xanatos whelp's spell is protecting the child I'm carrying, hopefully it will extend to me."

"Protect you from what...?"

"The residual energy you're infected with."

Elisa's eyes thinned. Tough as it was to concentrate when her body below the waist felt like it was splitting in half, she was still lucid enough to pick out certain words. "...from the phoenix...?"

"Yes." Demona nodded stiffly. "This will be the second time I'm risking my life to save yours, I hope it's appreciated."

"...you know, in the future...my daughter's middle name is Dominique..."

Demona reacted with raised brows before she could conceal the surprise with cold indifference.

"That enough appreciation for you...?" Elisa said.

Even in considerable amounts of pain, the detective still had a quick wit and a smart mouth to match. "Shall we begin?" Demona sneered.

She closed her eyes and stood there, for what seemed like an uncomfortable amount of time to those being forced to watch Elisa suffer. But she was sifting through a memory that reached back hundreds of years; one wrong word and the entire room could erupt and take out an entire corner of the Ishimura temple. She began chanting in what everyone else in the room thought was ancient Latin; after a few stanzas they expected something miraculous to happen, but it could've been their impatience in the face of Elisa's pained cries.

She chanted louder, the words more forceful, coming out in rapid fire. Some of the hanging lanterns started to move on their own, leaning in towards the center of the room as if some unseen force was pulling them. A warm breeze skirted the room, moving drapes and tapestries.

Diane tightened her embrace around her daughter, sensing something wasn't quite right. A prickle on her skin, she noticed Peter unconsciously rubbing his forearms as if he too, felt something.

And then, Demona palmed her hands outwards, towards Elisa, wrist to wrist. They started trembling against that same unseen force.

And suddenly Elisa stiffened; her entire body convulsed as her skin started to glow and for a moment, people looking on thought they saw the faint outline of her unborn child moving under her stomach. Ripples of energy flowed along her body and extremities towards Demona's outstretched hands. Like water–_or syrup_–it coated Demona's flesh from the fingertips up, slowly surrounding her, until she was completely enveloped.

"Good god..." Diane whispered.

Her entire body was awash in energy; skin churning and glowing like the sun, she drowned the entire room in blinding light. Demona looked at her shaking hands and gritted her teeth against the scream of pain. Before anyone could offer to help she bolted from the room with tiny arcs of electricity lapping at her heels. As the Mazas gathered around Elisa, Hoshi followed behind Demona.

As soon as it started, it was over and Elisa clenched, curled into the fetal position and mewled through a contraction.

Pierce was instantly at her side, lifting the sheet below her waist. "Good god...you're already dilating..."

And Elisa responded with a louder, wide-eyed growl.

"_And fast_. Okay, ladies, I think we have a baby coming!"

Shinohara, still a little shell-shocked from the entire experience, slowly approached her peers; they were calm and collected and doting on Elisa as if seeing a woman spontaneously combust and run from the room was a common event. "Doctor Pierce, should we operate now?"

"No time, she's ready to pop." His eyes were steady; this doctor was seemingly unflappable. "We'll get this baby out and then perform the laparotomy."

"Of course..." Her gaze drifted towards the door. "And the woman who–" She made a hesitant scooping gesture with her hands. "–removed the..._magic_ from Elisa...?"

"There's nothing anyone can do for her. That's beyond our training."

* * *

Demona was sure she'd knocked a few vases over and ripped some holes in a couple of the fragile rice-paper screens as she tore through the temple. In her long life she'd been set on fire a few times and was no stranger to the sensation of her flesh being burned away, but this as different. This was a pain that cut right down to her molecular structure. She was coming apart at the seams.

No wonder Maza had screamed so.

And she wasn't blind to the irony of her current situation. If that half-breed boy hadn't saddled her with a child not of her blood and the spell to protect it...

After blindly stumbling through the massive building for what seemed like hours (amazing what a couple of centuries away did to her memory), she found the door leading into the courtyard and sprinted outside. She shoved her way through several residents and students who just happened to be enjoying the warm air, aiming for the massive arch on the other side that would lead away from the castle. But her legs gave out on her and she crumpled and tumbled and bit the dust. As the others watched in awestruck fascination, she rolled around writhing in pain, frothing and growling like a gargoyle.

Before anyone could get close Hoshi bolted into the courtyard and started yelling, "Everyone out! _Now!_" Herding the stragglers away he too could only helplessly watch from a distance as Demona grew ever brighter and the ground around her seemed to smolder. Almost obscured by the light, the slender figure in the middle managed to get to her knees and looked skywards, reaching her arms out as if willing the energy to leave. He swore he could hear her speaking in hushed, strained Latin.

It bled out like an open wound and, suddenly, explosively, went up like a flare, a vertical column of energy shooting straight into the stars above and dissipating into the universe.

Hoshi watched the firework display and found himself rooted to the ground, eyes wide at the spectacle. Once the energy had vanished into the sky, his gaze eventually leveled out to see Demona collapse on the ground in a heap, steaming. Hoshi was sure she was dead, but approached anyways. "Demona?"

The lump of smoking flesh remained motionless at the question asked of it, until finally it shifted and convulsed as every muscle contracted against the last remnants of energy; Demona's eyes shot open and she sucked in a hot, rasped breath. Turning over, she coughed into the ground, sending up spitcurls of dust. "That...was much less traumatic when I was immortal..."

"Are you all right?"

Demona turned over and looked at him incredulously. "I just channeled enough energy to make anyone else's molecules cleave in two and explode."

A single eyebrow rose. "But are you all right now?"

Demona stared for a moment longer, impressed (if only slightly) at the muted composure of this particular human. "I am..." A hand subconsciously rubbed her extended belly. "Unspoiled." She imperiously held a hand out which he quickly accepted to help her to her feet and looked up at the sky, knowing just how much energy she'd sent into the universe and how far it would travel. She'd just painted a massive bulls-eye on her back. "But no," Demona muttered at length, "I am decidedly _not_ all right."

* * *

_New York, Eyrie building_

One would think they'd be used to the constant barrage of odd, wonderful and horrifying events going off like a string of firecrackers, one after another. But having seen Alexander and the phoenix exploding in a ball of fire from side of the Eyrie building and then being told Elisa had returned and was in Japan tested the limits of what the clan could take.

For a moment everyone stood slack-jawed and still, neurons not quite firing. All until someone in the small crowd managed to breathe and yell, "_Elisa's in Japan?!_"

Jason Canmore nodded. "Aye."

And then the floodgates opened.

"_How long has she been home?!_"

"_How long has she been gone?!_"

"_How old is she?!_"

"_Where's Goliath?!_"

"_And Trinity?!_"

Jason fell into the shadow of a mob of gargoyles forming a circle around him, all of them voicing the first thought on their minds at a decibel level that made him cringe. "Hold on..." he said, drowning in desperate growls. "_Hold on!_"

But one of the shadows loomed closer; Hudson stomped within arm's reach of the majordomo's wheelchair. The leather hide was furrowed into an intimidating frown. "Tell us everything ye know. Now."

As ordered by the gargoyle massaging the massive sword slung through his belt, Jason smiled and quickly elaborated, "Kai called me a little while ago. Apparently, Elisa up and appeared in th' middle of Ishimura nine months pregnant and in labor."

Everyone did the little bit of math. "Elisa's only been gone seven months?" Broadway whispered. "Or is this _another_ kid?"

"Kai didn't elaborate but like I told Pierce he didn't describe an old woman."

Silence followed; everyone got a chance to absorb a little more of the news until Jason dropped another bombshell.

"But there's something wrong."

"What?" Broadway looked up.

"She's having trouble giving birth. I sent Pierce and Weathers there t' help her."

Tachi's mouth turned down; this was frighteningly parallel to her own hatching. "Is it the phoenix gate?"

"We think so, but I don't have a lot of details."

"Well, we should go, shouldn't we? I mean..."

"The rest of the clan is in police custody," Annika started counting off on her fingers, "there was an explosion in Xanatos' office and Alex just flew away with the phoenix."

"And there's nothing we can do about any of that." Broadway muttered. "Unless there's a wizard, a lawyer or a gynecologist here that I didn't know about."

Both surprised and impressed by the well-fashioned quip, Annika paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. "Well," she started, "I don't know about any of you but I'm sick of being useless."

"We're _not_ useless. Elisa's in the best of hands right now but if you hear anything, Jason, tell us immediately."

He nodded. "Aye."

"Now what about Xanatos' office? I'm guessing the phoenix caused the damage?"

"I'm assuming that as well, but th' security footage has been erased. In fact, there are a lot of footage blackouts from top t' bottom of th' Eyrie, as if he was covering his tracks and using Mother t' do so. Her higher functions have been shut off."

Hudson started pensively stroking his beard. "Where would he be goin' after his son was attacked?" he pondered.

"I've given up trying t' guess that man's intentions." Jason said, matching the gargoyle's heavy Scottish brogue with his own. "For th' last few months David Xanatos hasn't been himself. Keeping secrets, more than usual. But maybe this time he's trying t' help his son."

"Then maybe we should too. Broadway, there has t' be something we can do t' help."

"_Like what?_" Broadway was incredulous.

"Something, _anything_. Gargoyles dinna stand by while their clan is attacked."

"We're a little less than at full force, Hudson."

"Doesna matter, lad." Hudson clasped a big hand on the younger gargoyle's shoulder. "If we canna help Elisa or th' rest of th' clan, then we can help th' lad who just flew away fighting a giant, fiery bird."

Broadway balled a fist in front of his mouth, brow lowered, mind grinding through the sudden weight of leadership and the choices that came with.

"I can power up any Steel Clan and Cybots we have available." Jason added.

He sighed, "All right."

* * *

Alexander didn't quite have the time to take in the sight of Governors Island, the statue of Liberty and the splendor of the New Jersey coastline as he flew over in a fiery blaze, considering there was a massive flaming bird screaming in his face.

He could barely keep the phoenix from absorbing every ounce of energy he could muster; the more he expended the more it was drained. All he could do right now was run and regroup to come up with an idea. But fear clouded his judgment; having a massive, flaming creature attack was enough to send a six year old into a terror-stricken sprint across New York.

He was a green streak, flying as fast as he can. The phoenix was right on his tail, its wingspan massive and he wondered if anyone was watching from below. Either the phoenix was using its magic to render itself imperceptible to anyone who might happen to look up into the night sky or it didn't care, sending everyone into a blind panic. It was screeching, easily breaking a hundred decibels and only amplifying the dread of the little boy it sought.

Alexander slowly pulled ahead, widening the gap between him and the phoenix. He was hesitant to fly into the desolate wastes of the ocean knowing he'd lose any and all good hiding spots but he didn't want anyone else to get hurt. He ended up deciding to swerve over the ocean and run as fast as he could

The phoenix appeared in front of him, having teleported itself.

Alexander pulled hard left and just narrowly missed flying straight through it.

He held his breath and closed his eyes, picturing in his mind where he wanted to go. He felt a shiver pass over his skin as he rearranged the matter around him and vanished in a green puff of light.

The phoenix screamed; the boy had teleported away. It searched the immediate area but found nothing. Sensing the energy left behind, the phoenix marshaled its own power and followed the bread crumbs, vanishing into the darkness.

* * *

The entire car ride over he'd wondered what was happening with his son.

If he could look up through the windshield of his hundred thousand dollar sedan and see him fleeing across the night sky. Every paternal instinct in his DNA was screaming at him to suit up and tear after them both, but this small window of opportunity afforded to him might be the last he had to find a cure for Fox. And, he supposed, to free from imprisonment the gargoyle he'd strung up for months and keep her away from Sobek. He only hoped Alexander could fend off the phoenix with his own seemingly endless source of magic but it didn't stop the father from worrying about his son.

Mother was sitting beside him in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead, her higher functions suppressed with the proverbial flick of a switch. Sprawled in the backseat, Infiniti lay comatose.

As he pulled up to the Cyber-Biotics building's main gate, he noticed the security guard in his little booth lazily raise his eyes over the edge of a magazine.

As the window lowered, the guard was surprised to see David Xanatos staring back at him. He immediately straightened. "Mr. Xanatos."

"Good evening. I don't suppose I have to show you my identification?"

"N-No, of course not." He fumbled for the gate controls. "Please go ahead."

He pulled his car through and down the main tunnel, into the bowels of the underground parking lot. Pulling into his and Fox's private, extra-wide stall, he motioned to Mother, still in her human guise. "Grab the samples and follow me."

She nodded and exited out the other side.

But before he closed the door, Xanatos shot another look at Infiniti. "Mother, can you at least give her a blanket?"

She nodded, again, and reached into the car. Her fingers lengthened and billowed and within seconds a large blanket was thrown over Infiniti's prone form, effectively disguising her from anyone that dared to wander too close to the boss' car.

It was the middle of the night but a good third of the staff were still working, using the opportunity to finish experiments and use the specialized equipment without having to fight over it like schoolchildren. Xanatos and Mother headed straight for the biology lab and he strode in as a king would his castle; no one questioned his sudden appearance, no one questioned his oddly silent and eerily expressionless assistant and no one questioned his singular order to determine just what was in those sealed beakers of dark sludge he handed to them. This substance was to be given priority over anything else; every available employee with a PhD was put to work with a tight deadline and an anxious billionaire breathing down their necks.

After a tense half-hour, one of the resident biologists eventually approached him with a stack of paper, obviously the results from their work. "Uh, Mr. Xanatos...?"

Xanatos turned and stared, as did his assistant. "You have something, doctor?"

"Whatever this stuff is, it's incredibly toxic and potent." he explained, swirling the small amount of dark liquid in the glass beaker. "It has the properties of both blood and some kind of incredibly powerful poison."

"I'm well aware. Can you create an anti-venom?"

"Possibly, we'll have to inject this substance into lab animals and wait for their immune systems to create antibodies–"

"How long?" Xanatos cut him off.

He breathed and tilted his head back and forth; he was feeling a little under the gun. "Maybe a day," the biologist admitted, "or a week, it all depends how the animals respond to the substance itself."

"Time is of the essence."

"I understand but–"

His expression congealed and the small crowd of lab technicians inwardly cringed. "Make it happen, _now_."

They all nodded, including the biologist chosen to speak, and wordlessly went to work.

After a while, a small voice came from behind him. "Mr. Xanatos, there's someone here to see you."

He turned. "Who?"

"One of our major shareholders." the technician explained.

His interest was piqued; there were no major shareholders save a select, intimate few. "Shareholders?"

The technician gave a curt nod over Xanatos' right shoulder and before he even turned around he could feel the cold prickle of something crawling down his spine, as if the very air was charged. Behind him stood a woman staring at him with more impunity than any suit or scientist would dare to. Anastasia Renard was burning a pair of holes through his chest.

"I would speak with you, Xanatos." Her path towards him was deliberate and eerily quiet, despite her heels on the hard tiled floor. "I would speak with you before I rend every atom in your trifling mortal flesh in two."

Allowing the threat to glance off his thick Grecian skin, Xanatos simply smiled. He'd already noticed the biologists had given them a wide berth so they were able to speak freely. "Then by all means..."

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't separate you molecule by molecule for what you've done to your family."

He could feel the palpable anger. He figured she could barely contain her human guise. "I've done nothing but protect them to the best of my abilities."

"Allowing your wife to wither away to dust is _not_ protection." Anastasia argued.

"Sending her to Avalon is. And I suppose you're aware of the secrets I've been keeping so I have no reason to prevaricate."

"Your son has elaborated." she said. "He is very frightened."

"He has every reason to be. If he's told you everything than you know very well my hands are tied. Alexander is tied to Sobek by the very spell your three harpies unleashed upon the mortal world a thousand years ago. Their pain is shared."

For a rare moment, the queen of the fairies didn't have an immediate response. But the human's logic was ultimately flawed. "That does not excuse your actions concerning my daughter."

The smile was already fading. "I've done everything I possibly can to extend Fox's life. If you have any better ideas, either elaborate quickly or stop wasting my time."

Anastasia watched him turn his back, his interest returning to the work at hand. "You should have come to me sooner..."

"I couldn't, not with Sobek breathing down my neck."

The queen was silent for a moment. But, as she opened her mouth to dress him down, she sensed something beyond. Something that, once, was a cause for concern considering what her son-in-law was doing, but now was suddenly and exponentially more powerful.

And Xanatos noticed her noticing, with a bit of a proud smirk. He figured her anger was so focused on him she was blinded to what was happening. "Ah," Xanatos said, "you sense it now, do you?"

"What is happening...what–" She stiffened and slowly turned around, staring through the walls.

"I'm sure you've noticed by now the amounts of energy being expended by the phoenix and my son."

She was still focused on whatever she could suddenly sense beyond the building's periphery. "_The phoenix?_ I thought it was of your doing...you and that creature and the unfortunate gargoyle you imprisoned..."

"No. Now, I'm in no position to get between a fight between demi-gods. But perhaps you'd like to do something useful and help Alexander."

Titania forced an angry glare his way. "We are not finished, Xanatos." She turned around and briskly walked away. She didn't even bother to use a door; Titania just marched straight through the wall as if it wasn't even there.

No one noticed but Xanatos. "I'm sure." he whispered.

* * *

He'd teleported to every corner of the planet, a dangerous thing to do for someone who'd rarely been outside of the country. But every time he disappeared and reappeared over a different country and continent, the phoenix followed, always dogging him, always right there on his heels.

Popping back into U.S. airspace he rocketed across the Midwest and eventually back towards New York State. He circled back towards Manhattan, maybe for better places to hide but if he couldn't lose the phoenix in the deserts of Africa or the jungles of Brazil then he wondered if there was anywhere on the planet where he could take refuge.

He wound around the Chrysler building and continued down towards the East Village, slinking in between the rooftops and using the usual commotion in the neighborhood as camouflage. He hit the steel grate of a fire escape drenched in the neon glow of a hotel sign. The phoenix passed overhead, searching. Alexander knew it was able to track him probably due to the magic he was radiating through the exertion of escape, so he tried to power off as best he could, tried to just stop, stop and breathe. He huddled behind that sign and waited, but within moments the phoenix was on him.

He shot up with the intent to escape but the phoenix flanked him. Like any bird of prey, it went in for the kill with its beak. A flash of teal-green suddenly slipped in between and the phoenix got a mouthful of brick and mortar as the corner of the building exploded in a cloud of shrapnel and dust.

The fastest and most agile flyer, Rain grabbed Alexander before the phoenix could. Alexander didn't question the timing and hugged her around the neck. But being a web-wing, holding the boy with one arm severely limited her mobility and she struggled to get away.

"Rain!" Annika yelled, passing underneath.

"Here, catch!" Rain dropped Alexander into Annika's waiting arms and she sped off, catching an updraft to lift her above the neighborhood.

Rain made a quick U-turn and headed back towards the fight, just in time to see Hudson dive towards the phoenix, sword drawn and eyes ablaze. The gargoyle battle cry was just as unnerving as the giant bird's own screams and the old soldier took a swipe at the phoenix, cleaving his sword right through its gut. But the sword simply passed through, glowing at the abrupt temperature change. If the phoenix was actually hurt by the strike it didn't outwardly show.

Confused by the sudden swarm of distractions, it searched for its target but found the boy missing. Lasers cut a swath through the sky as the Steel Clan surrounded it, firing everything in their arsenal as the clan flew in between trying to divert its attention. The phoenix simply curled in, seemingly shielding itself, and then snapped open its wings, decimating a good quarter of the robots.

Annika could hear the phoenix's protests over the roar of the city below but didn't dare look back. She could feel her small passenger's chest thump back and forth as he tried to catch his breath. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah..." Alexander was staring over her shoulder at the spectacle of an army of steel clan robots firing on the phoenix.

"Good. Now let's get as far away as we can until we can figure something out–"

"You can't." Alexander said suddenly. "It's really strong, an' fast."

She could hear the fear in his voice. "We'll think of something." And after saying that, suddenly could hear the fear in hers. "We always do."

* * *

She expected a bit of a commotion surrounding police headquarters but not a circus.

Officer Karen was sitting in the backseat of her cruiser staring out the window at the throngs of reporters and cameramen surrounding the front half of the building. They'd practically built themselves a shanty town; a couple of food trucks had moved in and were making a killing feeding the news crews. There were even a couple of people in the crowd with crudely made, strap-on wings holding up signs that read _Free The Gargoyles_ like it was a concert. "Jesus..." she muttered. "I didn't think it was this bad."

"You've got a bunch of real live gargoyles inside." her partner snorted from behind the wheel. "I bet some of these reporters would push over their own grandmother to get an exclusive."

She reflexively tightened around the bundle in her lap. "Yeah..."

Officer Williams slowly pulled closer, making a turn around the building. Armed guards flagged him and motioned for him to stop before he could even make it a few feet. He rolled the window down as one of them leaned in; a pair of beady eyes peered into the car.

"Identification, please."

Williams cocked an eyebrow. "Really?"

He looked sympathetic, but it was fleeting. "Orders are orders. Can't be too careful."

"Yeah." Both he and his partner flashed their badges and identification and after a few moments the guard seemed satisfied and waved them into the direction of the rear parking area.

"Okay, kiddo," Karen said, "we're going to have to keep you bundled up okay?"

Peeking out from blanket she was swaddled in, Trinity nodded and allowed Karen to pull it closer around her and tried to obscure her brow spurs with that thick black hair. As the cruiser maneuvered through the gate and into the lot, both the officers noticed the sheer amount of personnel standing guard at every possible entrance into the building. "Well, they've got this place on lockdown." she remarked.

"I guess everyone's still a little paranoid after the Times Square attack."

The inside was even busier, the ground floor of the building packed to the rafters with personnel. Holding Trinity close to her chest, she squeezed through several dozen people trying to find anyone that wouldn't react in fear or unabashed terror at the little girl who just happened to have wings.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted on one side of the main bullpen, the crowd reacting with surprised grunts as someone plowed through the room like a shark trawling the beachfront. Karen and her partner turned to see a lithe blonde woman splitting the crowd in half without any regard to whoever was in front of her. Another man, trailing behind her, was doing his best to keep up.

They watched as she used both the clout of her position and a scowl that could melt lead to clear a path, ordered the guard at the door to a particular room to let her inside and disappeared with the man slipping in before the door slammed shut. Williams cocked his head towards the attorney. "What about her? Isn't she one of the bigwigs in charge of the case?"

But his partner wasn't exactly convinced, judging by her soured expression. "I wouldn't trust that woman with a human kid let alone a gargoyle toddler."

"Then who...?"

"Who was that FBI agent in charge? On the news..." She started snapping her fingers to give her memory a shake. "Smith? Sanders...?"

"Sykes?"

"That's him." Karen found another officer and tugged on his sleeve as he tried to squeeze himself past. "Hey, where's that FBI agent? Sykes?"

Without saying a word the officer turned and pointed across the building towards someone who didn't look pleased with whatever was in the white Styrofoam cup he was holding.

"Thanks." Karen hefted Trinity a little higher and aimed for that agent. As she got close, her first sight was of a man who'd looked like he'd weathered a storm in the last twenty years; receding hairline, rumpled suit and turning up his nose at a cup of luke-warm coffee. "Excuse me?"

Tossing the half-filled plastic cup in the trash Abel turned and immediately sized up the owner of the voice with those gold-tinted eyes. He didn't think most cops would bring their kids to work during a media frenzy and a clan of supposedly dangerous gargoyles just down the hall. "Yes?"

"I have someone I think you should meet." She dropped her gaze to the girl huddled against her chest.

He reacted mutely. "The girl?"

"Yeah."

"Your girl?"

"No. Listen, maybe we should go into a private room."

"Why?"

"Just..._trust me_, this should be handled delicately and confidentially."

He hesitated against the odd request but sensed the seriousness in the officer's stance and tone, considering she was staring holes through him as she waited for a response. But, especially after the events of the last few months, he was beginning to embrace the insanity surrounding him. "All right." Abel headed off in the direction of one of the interrogation rooms he knew to be empty and allowed the two officers to enter inside before he followed and closed the door behind him. "Now, who exactly should I meet?" He looked at Trinity, who'd been reciprocating his stare the entire time. "This young lady?"

"First of all," the officer quickly set the ground rules, "I need to know that you're trying to protect them. The gargoyles I mean."

Sykes nonchalantly crossed his arms and stared at the woman. "Officer, I don't know how much you know what's going on around here but I'm risking my career protecting them. Now why do you ask?"

Another hard stare; this officer Karen was being incredibly and frustratingly thorough. "I just needed to know I can trust you."

"I assure you, you can."

"Good." Karen dropped her gaze to Trinity. "C'mon, sweetie, take off your jacket and show the nice man."

She hesitated, especially in the presence of someone she'd only known less than thirty seconds.

"I promise he'll help you." Karen whispered. "Isn't that right, agent Sykes?"

Abel nodded and half-smiled.

Trinity was uncovered and stripped of her coat, allowing her wings to open and stretch before curling in around her body.

Abel simply opened his mouth and stared. Lines rippled through his forehead as his brain started grinding through several thoughts at once, but all he managed verbally was, "Okay..."

"We found her in a drugstore a dozen blocks away, alone, hungry and scared out of her wits."

His head bobbed up and down, "I'd be scared too."

"I've been a cop in this city for over a decade and I've heard the stories, read the newspapers and watched all the blurred footage on TV." "Even if they're guilty or not, even if they're monsters or not, I can't believe a child could be anything but innocent."

"You're right." Abel took a few steps forward and leaned down to put his face level with the girl's. "What's your name, honey?"

But Trinity turned her big chocolate eyes away and kept quiet.

"Fair enough." Abel sighed. "Are you a gargoyle?"

An answer followed, albeit just a slight nod.

"Okay...well, this just throws a whole new wrinkle into the situation."

"What are you going to do with her?" Karen asked.

"Truthfully, I have no idea." He stood up. "But I assure you she'll be well taken care of."

"Do you think she belongs to one of the gargoyles you have in custody?"

His mouth opened and then, after a moment, snapped shut. Abel was suddenly struck by the similarity between the girl's skin color and the white-haired female with the matching wings; the caramel swirl looked almost identical. "Maybe...maybe I should ask them."

"And meanwhile...?"

Abel was stolen from his reverie. "Hmm?"

Karen tried again. "What should we do with the girl? Should we get social services?"

"And what are they going to do with a gargoyle toddler?"

"They're going to know how to deal with a child more than a couple of cops and an FBI agent." she said.

Abel just rubbed the furrows on his brow. Sleep was going to elude him again.

* * *

Margot barely waited until Logan was even inside before slamming the door shut on his coattails, hoping to startle the room's only occupant. But the woman across from the pair, swathed in police issue sweats and slumped in her chair, barely acknowledged the clap of thunder.

"Miss St. Nicks," Logan started, "we would like to ask you some questions–"

"_And we want the truth._" Margot butted in, coming around Logan's side and leaning on the table. "Not some bull story for whatever gossip column you used to write for. Do you understand?"

Despite the blond woman fanning the flames, Savannah barely reacted. She'd been sitting in this room for hours.

"Hello?!" Margot snapped, her voice becoming impossibly shriller. "Do you understand me?!"

Savannah slowly lifted her head. "Yes."

"Good. Now what exactly is your relationship to these gargoyles? Where do they make their home and are they guilty of what Jon Canmore says they are?"

"First of all, Canmore's a psycho and if you actually believe anything that man says then you have a severe mental deficiency."

A scowl, and then, "Then perhaps you could enlighten us. That's your so-called job, isn't it? Providing the unwashed masses with the truth as a...ahem, _journalist?_"

"You don't give a damn about the truth." Savannah shot right back. "Or you would've dismissed everything Jon Canmore had to say."

"Unfortunately I can't, at least until I find evidence to the contrary." Margot said earnestly. "So why don't you help your little winged friends across the building and tell me something different than what that so-called psycho told us."

Savannah snorted hot air but didn't muster anything else.

"Miss St. Nicks," Logan started calmly, "we need you to tell us what you know."

"Will it help them?"

"It might. And I can guarantee you that staying quiet might end up hurting them, and indicting you."

"So it all comes down to the fact I have absolutely no choice."

"You have several choices, but I think cooperating is the best one in your position."

She turned up her nose and forced her jaw shut, keeping whatever wanted to escape into the wild behind clenched teeth. Savannah could feel the anger welling inside her.

"Now," Logan took a seat across from her, opening his attaché to produce a notepad and gold-plated pen, "we have quite a few questions."

"Let me guess," Savannah chortled, dramatically counting off on her fingers, "where do the gargoyles live, did they do what they're accused of, are they dangerous, are they capable of violence and murder, etcetera, etcetera..."

"That's part of it, yes."

Margot, who'd opted to stand, added quickly, "And if you choose to lie to us, it'll be the same as not answering at all."

"_Margot_." Logan chided her. "Please."

"My apologies, Mr. Logan, I'm just frustrated with the amount of gargoyle sympathizers in this building."

Savannah leveled her gaze at the blonde. "You can only sympathize with someone who you know, and who you don't fear. It's too bad you're too damned prejudiced to get over it."

"I have reason to fear them." Margot spoke from experience, albeit one-sided. "And so do many others. For years they've attacked this city, caused me and the rest of the population nothing but grief."

"Grief?" Savannah parroted, leaning forward. Her eyes alert and glistening, it was a stark change from the near comatose state she'd spent most of her time while in police headquarters but Margot Yale had that effect on people, hence the success in her career. "Really? Innocent beings are being hunted and _eradicated_ simply because of what they are and you think your grief is comparable? Christ, your ego is unbelievable."

"Beating a human half to death is just the first in a laundry list of charges."

"Self defense–"

"So the gargoyle says." Margot wasn't even prepared to listen to the woman's excuse. "So the defense says. So every bleeding heart says!"

"_Ladies..._" Logan tried, but he was being drowned out.

"There are so many innocent people in this city, innocent children!" Margot kept upping the ante, on purpose of course. If she could get this woman mad enough, maybe she'd spill her guts. "But no, you'd rather sell out the rest of the human race for the monsters who constantly wreck this city and endanger human lives! They should be locked up and _so should you!_"

Savannah pushed back in her chair, jumped to her feet and took a swipe at the attorney with a clenched fist. But years of stewing in her own paranoia had made Margot's reflexes sharp as steel and she ducked out of the way, letting the reporter fall flat on the table surface.

"_How dare you...!_" Margot screeched, retreating out of harm's way. Her plan had half-worked, but she almost got a black eye in the process.

"Alright," Logan pushed his way between the women as Savannah scrambled over the table to get her hands on the blonde's slender throat, "that's enough!" He caught Savannah and held her against the table's edge. "That's enough. _Both of you._"

"Tell her to back off." Savannah growled.

"I will, but I need you to answer our questions." he offered, trying to stay as neutral as possible. "You need to tell us exactly what you told Mrs. Helms or I'll put you back in that cell for obstructing a federal case and attacking an officer of the court."

Eyes like pinpricks and still focused on Margot, Savannah unclenched from Logan's arms and relaxed. "And everything I tell you she's going to use to hang them. If she had her way they'd all be locked up or put to sleep like animals!"

"The information you provide is going to become evidence that we will use in our prosecution, yes, but I have no plans to have anyone or anything put to death on basis of being a gargoyle. If the gargoyle in custody is guilty, he'll pay for his crimes like any other human being. If not–"

"What? You'll let him go?" she finished for him. "_Bullshit_."

Even Logan couldn't answer right away. He didn't think the red gargoyle would be granted freedom so quickly and absolutely, even with a verdict in his favor. And if he was found innocent, how would the city react? He'd seen riots before.

An expert in reading body language, Savannah knew he agreed with her. "Didn't think so."

"It's not your place to decide whether or not the gargoyle goes free." Margot spat.

"No," Savannah hissed, and pointed a finger at the woman, "it's _yours_. And I bet you'll do everything in your power to make sure they're locked away, regardless of their innocence."

"You maintain they're innocent, but you have no proof."

"Neither do you or you wouldn't be so _insistent_ in trying to dig up anything you can on them."

"They must have made quite an impression on you to elicit such loyalty." Margot said. "And just a few weeks ago you were planning to expose them."

"You're right, I was. And then I got to know them, and then they saved my life." Savannah leaned back in her chair and, instantly, inexplicably, was the picture of calm. "Do you want to know why they deserve my loyalty? Grab a seat, dye-job, and I'll tell you."

* * *

He could hear her voice even across the station and through a closed door; it was better than a bell around her neck. Knowing Margot and Logan were busy interrogating Savannah, and agent Neville was somewhere upstairs either kissing ass with the mayor or hanging upside down from the rafters, he figured he was safe to talk with the clan about the little gargoyle delivered to him earlier.

Silently watching him enter and close the door behind him, the gargoyles stood up in one eerily synchronized movement and waited for him to break the silence. They'd been courteous enough to clean their shards from the floor with the provided broom and dustpan.

"Morning," he said, "or evening...whatever..."

Some of them nodded, some of them kept staring, especially the big slate-blue one with four-foot shoulders and the heavy frown.

"What can we do for you, agent Sykes?" the lavender female greeted him.

Shaking off the sense of intimidation he crossed his arms and got right to it. "Just a little while ago two officers responded to a break and enter at a drug store downtown and found a young girl all by herself."

No one reacted quite yet; knowing this particular agent, they all figured this was leading somewhere but he'd decided to be cryptic.

"She was brought in less than an hour ago after having helped herself to the candy aisle. The two officers who found her described the girl as disheveled, hungry and scared out her wits. She wouldn't offer any bit of personal information, not even her name..."

"I'm sorry for interrupting, agent Sykes," Angela held up a hand, "but I assume this story has something to do with us?"

"Oh yeah, especially since this particular young girl has wings and a tail."

Angela's jaw dropped.

But before she could do or say anything a pair of massive dusty blue hands grabbed Abel by the collar and lifted him a good foot off the ground. Othello responded first and decided to do it physically. "_WHERE IS SHE?!"_

Struggling to get air through his compressed larynx, Abel tried to remove the massive hands but found they were stronger than concrete. "...ghhkk...she's...close..."

"Othello!" Desdemona screamed. "Let go!"

"...yeah...othello..." Abel wheezed, eyes bulging. "...let go..."

"Not until this human tells us where she is!" Othello roared, close enough to see the human's pupils dilate. "How dare you imprison a hatchling?! Have you no honor?!"

Desdemona had her own hands entwined around her mate's wrists, hoping to prevent serious injury to the FBI agent. Angela, Lexington and the clever sister hopped up on either side to try and pry them apart. Held in place by Delilah, Bronx started growling in support of his masters while Katana lifted herself from the couch, cradling her still-healing stomach.

It only took a few moments for the guards outside to hear the commotion and rush in, guns drawn. "Put him down! Now!" But they merely got a glimpse of glowing eyes.

"Othello, let go!" Lexington screamed at him, yanking on that rock-solid arm. The consequence of threatening an FBI agent with severe bodily harm was becoming far too real for his liking, especially when he noticed a tiny red dot traveling up Othello's chest and centering on his heart. Lexington traced the source of that dot back to an assault rifle held in the steady hands of a man wearing fifty pounds of riot gear, slowly stalking towards them between the two guards.

"This is your last warning, gargoyle!" he screamed. "Drop him or I drop you!"

Abel feebly tried to wave them off; the last thing he needed were bullets flying and enraging a group of gargoyles to the point of starting a small war. "...no...everyone just...calm down..."

"Drop him now!"

"_Othello!_"

"Where is she?!"

"...everyone just...calm down..."

"Othello, _please!_"

It took the frantic pleas of his mate to loosen his grip and allow the human to skip free and slump to the ground. Practically pushed against the back wall by the rest of the clan, Othello's shoulders heaved with each rasped breath.

One of the guards slung a hand under Abel's arm and helped him to his feet. "Are you all right, agent Sykes?"

"I'm fine...I'm fine..."

"Do you want the gargoyle in cuffs?"

"No. No, no cuffs...we're all good." He looked up. "Aren't we, Othello?"

It took the large gargoyle a moment to concede and begrudgingly acknowledge with a slight tilt to his head.

But knowing the taciturn gargoyle and his general lack of communication, Abel took it as a sign of a temporary truce. "Okay guys, we're all good here."

"Are you sure? He attacked you..."

"Because we were discussing a very touchy subject. Thank you."

Reluctantly, the guards slowly backed away and resumed their positions outside the room.

"So..." Abel started, smoothing his already wrinkled suit jacket. "Othello, huh? Big fan of Shakespeare?"

Othello growled in response, like a wounded dog.

"Didn't think so..." He turned to the big guy's obvious mate, who'd tried her best to prevent his head from being separated from his shoulders. "And you must be Desdemona."

"Yes," she answered concisely, "I am."

His attempt at humor was shattered. "Oh."

The dark-skinned female marched forwards and gently rested a hand on Abel's shoulder. Her eyes were pleading. "Please tell us where this hatchling is."

"Is she a part of your clan?" he asked.

"Very much so...a very important part."

"Then what was she doing abandoned in the middle of the city?"

That simple question hit everyone in the room like a bullet to the chest. Knowing that Trinity was left alone in Manhattan was a difficult image to shake.

"Because," it was Lexington who'd speak up first, "there was no one to care for her."

"What about the rest of your clan? I know there's more out there. The girl's mother perhaps?" He turned his gold eyes on Delilah and she quickly shrunk under the scrutiny. "Or are _you_ her mother?"

She reacted accordingly; wide eyes, flared wings. Everyone else was surprised at the accusation. "_Me?_"

"Sorry if I'm generalizing, but your skin tones are identical."

"Gargoyles have many _skin tones_." Othello thought to remind him.

But Abel ignored the pointed growl and started slowly towards Delilah. "No, this is different. They have the same skin, the same face, and the same eyes."

"Coincidence." Delilah argued.

"No," Abel shook his head, "I know eyes. I've seen the eyes of killers and victims alike and yours are identical to that little girl's in there, if not a little more charcoal than chocolate."

She swallowed, "She's...my sister."

Angela winced at the revelation but knew Delilah had no choice. She couldn't help admit to herself she would've done the same thing. Their relationship with this agent relied on mutual trust.

Standing to his full height, Abel suppressed the triumphant grin. "Who's the mother?"

"We have many mothers," Delilah clarified, "_and_ many fathers."

"So I've heard. Now I apologize if this is a dreadfully human perspective but I'm more interested in that girl's _biological_ parents. _Who_ are they, _where_ are they? Do they happen to be in this room and my detective skills are just a little rusty?"

"As my clanmate pointed out," the clever sister said, "the girl has many parents."

"Of course." he sighed.

"Can we see her?" Angela pleaded.

He could see the pain painted through her eyes and rubbed his throat. "Maybe...maybe now's not the right time..."

Angela's features quickly soured, effectively channeling her mother with a raised lip. Wings and tails rustled in the background. "Are you keeping her from us?" she accused. "What purpose does that serve?"

"I'm not sure introducing her to a clan of gargoyles is the right thing."

"And an obviously frightened gargoyle hatchling being sequestered in the middle of police headquarters surrounded by armed guards and nervous officers is the right thing?"

Hands in his pockets, Abel shrugged. "Touché."

"We are her clan. She belongs with us."

"And I'll consider it."

But Angela didn't like the sudden turn. "And just moments ago I thought our relationship relied on mutual trust. Was I mistaken?"

Abel sighed and said, "I'd like to think it does and I need you to trust me now." He nodded, turned around and headed for the exit, well aware every gargoyle in that room was staring as he retreated. As Abel closed the door behind him he caught his partner jogging towards the room from the corner of his eye. He feigned composure and fiddled with his collar and tie, wrinkled something fierce with the run-in with Othello. He actually chuckled under his breath, finally getting a couple of names from the reluctant gargoyles.

"I heard the commotion." Dominic stopped short in front of him, looking over his partner for wounds. He could only imagine what one of those gargoyles could do if pushed far enough, and Abel had the unique ability to get under someone's skin. "Did one of the gargoyles attack you?"

Abel nodded and answered, "Yeah, but he was pretty pissed off."

"Uh, and what exactly did you do you piss him off?"

"That's right, you don't know." Abel said with a smile.

"Know what?"

"There's someone I think you should meet."

* * *

_Bellevue Hospital_

The sheer amount of armed guards surprised even Todd. He knew his father was dangerous and clever and better than Houdini at escape attempts but right now he was bedridden and had been for weeks. But he figured if he was in the same position, he'd take the same precautions.

Once word got out that Joseph Hawkins had awakened, a police escort arrived at the hospital within the hour. Half a dozen officers filed into the room with a stretcher and with a couple rifles trained on Joseph, lest the recent coma victim somehow unshackle himself and disarm six heavily armed men and women without suffering another bullet wound, quickly transferred him from bed to bed.

If he had anything left to say to his family watching from afar, the officers didn't allow him the chance to speak; there was an odd sense of speed to the transfer.

He was wheeled out of the room, into the elevator and once on ground level, out to the street where a police transport was idling by the curb. Todd, his sister Sarah, Rose and Macbeth followed behind just in time to watch as they opened the rear doors and hefted Joseph's stretcher into the back of the vehicle.

Joseph's eyes flicked to his family before the doors slammed shut, his expression unreadable. Not so much calculating, not so much regretful, just blank.

The rest of the officers filed in and as the big wagon shuffled off, Rose eventually wandered away to the nearest bench, slumping to the varnished wood slats. Macbeth hesitated for a moment before joining her, offering solace with his presence. Todd concentrated on his sister, her gaze still trained on the police vehicle slowly disappearing from sight. "How're you doing?"

Sarah shrugged limply. "He's going where he belongs, I guess..."

"You're right, he is. Hopefully maximum security."

"But it's over, isn't it?"

Todd waffled back and forth; he'd learned not to live by such absolutes as they always came back to bite him in the ass. "I wish I could agree with you, but I've learned to stay slightly paranoid considering what I've lived through the last few years. And I won't feel safe until he's behind bars."

"I'm sure a lot of people are saying that about the gargoyles..."

He looked down, expression none too appreciative.

"I can feel your eyes on me." Sarah said blindly. "I don't mean that the way you probably think I mean that, but it's all about perspective I guess. You'd risk everything for them, the gargoyles, you'd argue their innocence until your last breath and I can't help it, but I'd maintain there's still part of our father in that man until I take mine."

Whatever he was feeling quickly boiled away. "Maybe we should go home, I'm sure you're tired."

"Back to that castle?"

"Yeah, like I said, _home_." Todd reiterated, grabbing the handles on his sister's wheelchair and pulling her away from the curb. "Nice big comfy bed, good food, great internet."

"And then what?" she repeated.

"What?"

"Then what do we do? I've never really had much of a life outside of that man."

"You have your mother and your older brother." he said, intentionally pointing Sarah towards where Rose was sitting. She just happened to look up as they neared and genuinely smiled. It was infectious and Sarah's lip curled into a weak smile of her own. "We move on."

"How?" she asked softly.

Todd couldn't help but shrug. "My advice is to just embrace the insanity."

* * *

The truck lurched into gear and he steeled himself against the sudden change in momentum and the effect on his healing wounds.

His last sight was of his family before being locked inside, replaced with the cold steel of a transportable prison. Of course his training automatically started pinpointing any weaknesses in the officers around him or the vehicle itself, eyes darting back and forth to absorb as much information as possible and Joseph wondered just how far he'd make it in his condition before someone got lucky and put him down for good.

It was less than a few blocks into their journey before someone politely excused himself between the heavily armored guards, took a seat near Joseph's bedside and adjusted his glasses and flat-brim cap.

Joseph swore he recognized him.

Hooking a thumb under his lapel, the stout man revealed a small, triangular-shaped pin. "Thirty two."

He shook his head. "Thirty six." Joseph reciprocated. "You'll forgive me if I don't show my shiny little pin."

Hacker smiled, all too casually. "Quite all right, considering the circumstances."

"So," he scanned the vehicle around him and the rest of the Illuminati agents apparently posing as cops, "I'm being rescued am I?"

"I guarantee you where we're taking you is a lot better than your original scheduled stop." Hacker breathed in and let it out in a huff. "Well, Mr. Black, or is it Mr. Hawkins now? It seems there's been a slight bump in the road."

"You and I both know Joseph Hawkins died a long time ago." Joseph quickly corrected. "And I wouldn't call the complete and utter decimation of my forces a slight bump."

"Quite. There's some who'd call it a massive failure. We're disappointed our investment hasn't produced as well as we'd hoped, but at least the distraction you've created is interesting. And we've been able to observe the gargoyles' defenses and allies in action."

"Your...investment." Joseph parroted a single word. "My family's death–"

"Supposed death." Hacker corrected genially.

"–was nothing but an investment to you."

He seemed indifferent to the man's pain. "Of course. Did you think it was anything else? Sympathy perhaps? We'd offer you millions of dollars of funding and equipment because your story tugged at our heartstrings? The Illuminati is not a charity. We're a business, one that requires results."

"I got closer than anyone else." Joseph argued. "Closer than the Canmores and closer than the Illuminati and their far-reaching resources ever could. Seems you needed me much more than I needed you."

Hacker leaned back and crossed his arms. His expression was purposely neutral, which soon broke into that exasperating grin. "The Illuminati always needs capable members."

"No, the Illuminati needed a weapon. All those years ago when you provided me the means to get back at those who took my family from me, I was your plan B if the Canmore family failed at their task."

"And now it seems we need a plan C." Hacker said. "If these particular gargoyles cannot be controlled, and almost all of them have proven so, then they must be eradicated. There can't be uncontrolled elements in the grand scheme."

Joseph took note of the agent's choice of words. "Grand scheme? How theatrical."

"It's the manipulation of the world to mankind's benefit...the operative word being _mankind_, of course. The only species that should be at the top of the food chain. Now, you're officially free and we think you deserve one last chance."

"To do what?"

"Send a message, and finish your assigned task."

* * *

The battle had waged for a while now, the clan and their robot reinforcements holding back the storm as best they could. It was getting close to dawn and they needed to find a safe spot to rest for the day but the severely one-sided battle wasn't going well. They'd barely managed to keep the phoenix at bay with a battalion of robots but it didn't take long for every machine to be incinerated and the clan had barely avoided getting singed themselves.

The phoenix turned its attention on the mortals that swirled around it, piercing its fiery hide with swords and bricks and metal rods used as spears and anything else that could be used as a weapon.

They'd moved south, following the East river as they desperately tried anything to persuade the phoenix from attacking Alexander but their efforts were being wasted. The Steel Clan's weaponry had barely made a dent against something made entirely of magic fire and the clan wasn't faring any better.

"Move it!" he screamed at his sister, watching as she barely maneuvered out of the way of one of the phoenix's massive wings. Tachi corkscrewed and hit a thermal, rising up and out of harm's way, joining her twin. "You okay?" Nashville said.

"Yeah..." she whispered, obviously rattled.

Nashville and Tachi were young but agile flyers, hoping to confuse and distract the phoenix while the heavy hitters tried their best to cause any damage.

But as the battle dragged Broadway wasn't seeing much progress. He'd been witness to a couple of hours of teenagers, lithe Canadians and pregnant gargoyles barely dodging attacks that would've melted steel. Hovering over a harbor full of anchored boats, he dove lower to find another weapon and ended up seeing a stash of gas cans. He fumbled his hand over the cans and grabbed a big one with a bit of heft to it. Broadway leapt back into the air and headed straight for the phoenix. "_Heads up, Hudson!_" The old soldier caught Broadway from the corner of his eye and noticed he was about to lob something his way. Once Hudson cleared, he fired the jerry can straight at the center of the phoenix and it exploded in a plume of light and black smoke. The phoenix screeched but shrugged it off. It twisted, turned unnaturally fast and countered even quicker.

The sudden wave of hot air caught all of them and the lighter of the clan were hit hardest.

Nashville was almost knocked out of the sky and only Broadway's quick intervention prevented him from hitting the street.

"_Damnit!_" he muttered, trying to heave Nashville higher. This was getting dangerous. "We're not doing a thing! Hudson, we have to regroup!" Broadway put a couple fingers in his mouth and whistled, getting everyone's attention. The clan found a nearby rooftop and huddled in a circle behind a brick wall. He noticed everyone was breathing heavily from the exertion and his freshly repaired leg was starting to ache. "I think we need a new strategy..."

Annika stretched her back. "Anyone got a nuke?"

"You can't beat it." Alexander whispered. "You can't fight it, you haveta go. Th' sun's comin'."

"Not without you." Broadway said firmly. "We've still got some time and we'll find a place to hide."

But Alexander clenched his fists and yelled at them, "No, no! You haveta go!"

"Alex..." He was cut off, noticing the light behind him. Broadway turned his head; the phoenix had found them. "Uh oh..."

It reared up and Alexander felt the power welling; something horrific was about to be unleashed. "_NO!_" he screamed, and formed a perfectly spherical shield around the clan. The ball rocketed away into the night, taking the gargoyles with it.

But the phoenix didn't care. The distractions were finally gone, leaving only the boy. It lunged at him, searing the air around it. Alexander had barely time to fly upwards into the sky before the phoenix attacked and shattered his defenses. He could feel the intense heat all around him, burning, blistering, he was being absorbed. The noise was deafening, the pain was mounting and in a last ditch effort he exploded out of panic, releasing everything he had left inside of him. Everything in a hundred foot radius was obliterated, clouds, oxygen molecules and the phoenix itself. Like blowing out a candle, it was eradicated with a scream.

Alexander hung in the air, shivering from the release. His body temperature had dropped a few degrees from the exertion. He looked around. Something still lingered but he couldn't see it, and like trying to remember a dream he knew it was there just on the edges of his ability to sense it.

Something flickered in mid-air and started to grow larger.

Alexander wasn't old enough to understand the science behind conservation of mass and how he couldn't have simply destroyed the phoenix. All he knew was the power he felt returning, watching that little misshapen spark writhe and reform. He fired a pinpoint bolt of energy at it, wiping it away. But it reformed again, this time larger and faster. Alexander tried again, but the flame couldn't be extinguished. "Go away!" he screamed.

It continued growing, he continued trying to erase it from history. But the growth spurt resumed unabated until the phoenix returned to its intimidating size and bearing. It spread its wings and lit up, going through the color spectrum from red to orange to blinding white.

Like a deer caught in the headlights Alexander was frozen. The phoenix attacked suddenly, moving so fast it blurred and Alexander didn't have time to react when the entire sky filled with light. Even he had to shield his eyes.

The phoenix blew back fifty feet and upon righting itself, was surprised at the force that knocked it back.

Titania hovered in the air with her hand extended, having put herself between the two combatants. "Dare not try that again, beast." she warned.

But the phoenix simply screamed at them both, making the air vibrate with its power.

"What do you want with my grandson?!" Titania howled over the noise. "Why do you attack him?!"

It circled around them both, testing the queen's defenses, still burning, still furious.

"_Answer me_, ancient one. What do you want with my grandson?"

And the phoenix spoke in a voice that thrummed across the sky, shaking every molecule and seemed to come from everywhere at once. "_**FREEDOM.**_"

* * *

Being trapped in a room without windows was disconcerting for someone used to growing up on an island and currently living in the city's tallest skyscraper, and _especially_ for a gargoyle. Angela was pacing, pent up energy translating into a quick gait around their room.

Conversation was lacking, ever since the bombshell of Trinity's return. The question of her return led to more questions about Goliath and Elisa and how they ever got separated. _Were they even still alive?_

The very thought sent a stab of pain through her chest and lit a fire. Her hands balled into fists at her helplessness. And then the normally patient gargoyle clenched one of those fists and drove it into the middle of a table, shattering the wood and vinyl veneer top. It crumpled into a broken heap on the floor.

"Angela?"

She reared back and flexed her hand, lavender flesh blushing crimson around the knuckles. "I can't believe Trinity was left alone in the middle of the city." she whispered. "Where are Goliath and Elisa?"

"They were obviously separated." Lexington told her, hunched on the back end of the largest sofa. "But at least she's back. At least she's safe."

She opened her hand at the room they were trapped in. "I wouldn't call this safe. She's exposed, Lex, exposed to the world. What if she's taken away, taken to some...laboratory?"

"I do not know much about this century but I cannot believe the same humans that uphold their laws would endanger a hatchling." the clever sister tried to console her.

"She's right, that's _not_ going to happen." Lexington added.

"How?" Angela asked. "How do we protect her from inside this room?"

"Perhaps we should consider leaving." Othello suggested quietly. "On our own terms, and with our rookery daughter."

"Breaking out?" Desdemona stood up. "And what if we fail?"

"What if we succeed?" he said. "We are free, and so is Trinity. It is not just our safety at stake, it is a hatchling's."

Katana turned. Her mobility was improving and she didn't wince whenever forced to take a breath, but she was still stiff. "But what of Brooklyn? Surely he would suffer."

"He chose his fate as any leader would, and in doing so he spared us. But his sacrifice means nothing if we are trapped here, especially Trinity. Her safety must be assured."

Desdemona shook her head as her mate's bullishness. His tendency to see things in such stark contrast could become tiring. "My love, that is–"

"I agree."

She whirled on the spot, talons scoring a circle in the carpeting and faced Goliath's firstborn. "I beg your pardon?"

Angela didn't wilt under Desdemona's glare. "Nothing will happen to Trinity as long as I draw breath."

"We do not know if she is in any danger." she said. "And attempting something as foolish as a break-out in the middle of a heavily-armed police station is not what Brooklyn, _or Goliath_, would want."

"_She is my sister!_"

"She is my daughter." Desdemona countered, demeanor like ice. "And I will not risk her safety. We cannot risk _her_."

Silence fell, Angela and Desdemona staring at each other until Angela turned around in a huff and moved to the opposite side of the room.

* * *

_Japan_

Even if there was a window in the room, no one would've noticed the ever-darkening ribbons of color threading across the sky as the sun started setting. There was a lot of yelling and screaming to distract everyone.

Elisa was practically standing on her toes in the middle of a contraction, voicing her opinion of the pain of childbirth from the top of her lungs. Diane and Peter were on either side of her, feeling Elisa's hands digging into their respective flesh but they gritted through it, knowing their pain paled in comparison to their daughter's.

"You're almost there, Elisa..." Pierce said from behind his mask. He was hunched in front of her guiding the baby. "Almost there!"

Drenched in sweat and glistening like she was covered in Vaseline, Elisa didn't quite feel like she was almost there. Trinity's birth was painful yet mercilessly quick, but her second daughter was taking her time. Another contraction, another powerful urge to push and Elisa bore down, feeling the lightning rip through her. Whatever the phoenix gate did to her, it was still making its presence known.

As Weathers and Shinohara flanked him, Pierce cradled the newborn as she emerged. First her head, and he was worried for a moment at the dark purple color until he remembered the skin tone of the father and hoped this was natural. "Wow..."

"What?!" Elisa barked.

"I think the baby's purple."

"_So's the father!_"

"Yup, yup, gotcha." Pierce continued with his task for fear of losing a hand. If the baby was suffering from oxygen loss it was best to get her out as soon as possible. "Okay, here come the shoulders..."

"You're doing great, Elisa," Diane encouraged her, "almost there, baby."

"We have shoulders...and wings!"

"Almost there..."

"Annnnnnnd...we have a baby!" Pierce announced.

Elisa collapsed on the bed.

"It's a–"

"Girl." Elisa cut in between rasped breaths. "I know."

Pierce smiled behind the mask. "Of course." Weathers handed him a blanket to swaddle the baby and he used the bulb syringe to clear the baby's mouth. As soon as the fluid was cleared a high-pitched wail filled the room, making every one of the Mazas smile. "And she's got a hell of a set of lungs."

"Is...she okay, Pierce?"

Hidden between her legs for most of the delivery, Pierce stood up with the source of the screaming in his arms. "Ten fingers, eight toes, she looks okay to me." He placed the baby on Elisa's chest, allowing her to see her new daughter while he clamped the umbilical cord.

There was an odd sense of calm after all the screaming and breathing had stopped and for a brief moment, while staring into the narrowed, red-rimmed eyes of her new daughter, Elisa Maza felt no pain. She looked so much like Trinity when she was born, the same wings and tail and the four little nubs crossing her brow, all except the deep lavender blooming through her flesh; just like her father. "Goliath..." she whispered. "...we have another daughter..."

Diane leaned in, moving wet strands from her daughter's brow. "She's beautiful, Elisa."

"Like a little raisin..." Peter chuckled.

Her fingers were trembling as they lightly passed over the squirming child's wet skin, as if she couldn't believe any of this was real; as if the daughter she carried through months of time-traveling and just gave birth to would vanish if she dared to blink. "Hello..."

The baby blinked and flailed her tiny arms in response.

"Thought of a name?"

The voice seemed so distant, even though her mother was standing right beside her. Elisa managed a crooked smile. "...I don't know if this is pre-destiny...or the effect of time travel...but like your uncles before you, who took their names from my hometown, I name you Liberty."

And then the semi-truck hit; Elisa's eyes rolled back in her skull and she went limp in the bed.

Diane immediately grabbed for the newborn before Elisa dropped her. "Doctor!"

"Whoa..." Pierce grabbed her, held up her head and lifted an eyelid; Elisa's pupil was the size of a marble. "Oh damn, she's going into shock. We need to get her prepped for surgery now!" He pointed a couple of fingers at Peter and Derek. "You two, I need you to wheel this bed into the infirmary and then, I'm sorry to say, we're going to have to tap you for blood again, just in case."

They nodded and each took a position behind Elisa's bed.

"Ladies," Pierce motioned to his partners, "go prep the surgical room."

Trishia nodded and patted Shinohara on the shoulder, urging her to follow. "Come on, now it's time for the hard part."

Hooking a finger into her surgical mask and pulling it off to reveal a curled lip, Shinohara replied, "_That_ was the easy part?"

"Yup."

The doctors hurried down the hall after Elisa and turning a corner, they narrowly avoided a collision with several newly awakened gargoyles running in the opposite direction.

Sora stopped short on seeing Elisa's bed being rolled towards them and they had to squeeze against the wall to avoid being steamrolled. "Doctor!"

His attention on the newborn, feeling around her extremities, Pierce looked up at the new arrivals. "Morning. Or evening...or whatever..."

"Is Elisa all right?"

"She's headed to surgery now."

"Do you require assistance, doctor?" Kaede offered.

"Actually yes, I need you to look over her baby while we operate."

At the mention of the baby, Kai's posture tensed. "Her hatchling, is it...?"

Pierce gestured with a quick nod to the bundle in Diane's arms. "You tell me."

He and Sora both burst into smiles on seeing the baby.

"Diane?" Pierce urged.

Diane looked at Kaede and her extended arms. She was hesitant to hand off her granddaughter but reminded herself of how the Ishimurans bent over backwards to help her daughter. "Of course," she relented, "I'm sorry."

"It is all right." Kaede said. "A mother's instinct never fades, especially when it comes to our hatchlings."

Diane gently transferred the blanketed infant to the tangerine-skinned gargoyle and felt a pang of loss immediately after.

But before Kaede could leave, Pierce grabbed her by the arm. "Kaede, wait." he whispered.

"Yes, doctor..."

His eyes went down to the passenger in her arms. "Healthy interspecies children are a miracle in themselves, but I have no idea what this child went through during Elisa's little jaunt through time and how it could be affecting her. There could be unforeseen issues we may have to deal with. I need you to take as many measurements, samples and tests as you can possibly think of. Save the umbilical cord and the placenta, I'll look at them afterwards."

Kaede nodded, still enthralled with the child.

"If any complications come up, come get me fast."

"Of course. Good luck, doctor."

* * *

_New York_

Abel almost lost track of the time. It'd been a long time since he'd actually lived his life with the rhythm of the rest of the city. Days blended into night and back into day again without him even noticing. He almost let the coming sunrise slip past him.

Opening the door to the room where he'd sequestered Trinity, he found her kneeling in front of a coffee table engrossed in a coloring book he'd picked up and hand-delivered earlier. He'd served her a sandwich, cookies and a juicebox and watched as she flipped her way through the book before choosing a page and, while eating with one hand, deftly plucked a crayon from the box with the other and started laying down colors. A couple of hours later and she was already through a good third.

"The sun's about to come up, maybe you should put the crayons away." Abel said, announcing his presence with a bit of gentle parenting.

But she stubbornly shook her head. "Nuh uh."

"But your hand's just going to turn to stone around that crayon."

"Nope."

Abel's brow lowered. He was never that good at handling children given his long-standing bachelor status and decided not to argue with a toddler. But at the very least she seemed to be getting used to him. "Okay..." Pulling back his shirt sleeve, Abel glanced playfully at his watch. "Five...four...three..." He started counting down. "Two...one...aaaaannnnnnddd..."

Trinity finally pulled herself from her work and shot the agent the genetically inherited Maza crook-eye, wondering exactly what the strange man was going on about.

Abel's satisfied grin slowly started to fade and he wondered if the clock was wrong. He tapped his watch a few times with an index finger and glanced back at the girl, who'd simply returned to her coloring. "Okay...why are you still awake?"

"Tol' you."

Non-plussed, Abel leaned on his hand, silently waiting out the sunrise. Despite the lack of windows in the room, he knew the sun was already starting to rise but decided to give it a few more minutes. After a while, he figured he'd lost a bet to a four-year-old. "I guess you did. Why don't you turn to stone?"

Another shrug.

The kid was evading again, but maybe it was for a good reason. Comparing the girl to a mental image of the other gargoyles, he was reminded of that old Sesame Street jingle. Wings, spurs, tail, check; everything about her outward appearance screamed gargoyle so Abel started dissecting even the tiniest, most benign details. And then of course he noticed the chubby little fingers around the crayon, and particularly how many fingers there were. "Huh..." He leaned over to get a look under the table. Trinity was barefoot, and all eight of her toes were visible. "_Huh_."

A quick knock on the door of the room made Abel jump and he turned to see his young partner poke his head through. "Hey."

"Hey."

"You okay?" Dominic asked.

"Yeah..." He gritted through a few audible cricks as he got to his feet and stretched his back. "Dom, are the other gargoyles sleeping?"

His partner's mouth went flat. "Solid as concrete."

Abel then pointed to Trinity. "Then why isn't she?"

"What?" Dominic slipped into the room and saw the girl, still coloring, still humming to herself, and still flesh and blood. "Okay, that's...different."

"Mmm hm."

He grabbed Abel's arm and checked the watch. "Should we wait? Maybe it's a delayed reaction."

"No such thing." Abel replied.

"Well," he shrugged helplessly, "maybe some of them just don't turn to stone?"

But Sykes wasn't buying it. Something seemed different about this girl. "Sure..."

Dominic turned his head and saw the expression grinding through his partner's face. He inwardly groaned; it was his thinking face. "Do you have another suggestion, Abel?"

"Did you happen to notice the number of fingers and toes she has?" he asked.

"Five and four, yeah." Dominic said.

"And how many of the gargoyles in that room have five fingers?"

"Not one. But they also have different colored skin, different wings, different horns and spikes and everything else. Not one of them is the same."

"_Except_," Abel said pointedly, "for the number of fingers on each hand."

Dominic leaned back, every muscle above the neck skewed in different directions as his expression tried to mimic his own skepticism. "That's stretching, Abel..."

Abel couldn't help but shrug in mild capitulation. "Maybe," he said softly, "or maybe with all the insanity surrounding us, leaps of logic are necessary to find out the truth. If the number of digits doesn't matter, what's the one thing that's remained consistent with every gargoyle we've come across?"

"They turn to stone."

"As soon as the sun rises." he added. "No delays, no hiding, it's an absolute, unquestionable fact."

"So what makes her different?"

"Among all of Canmore's batshit crazy stories, one was that a detective Maza had a kid with a gargoyle."

Dominic's mouth hung open. His partner was taking a hell of a leap of logic. He suddenly grabbed Abel and pulled him to a far corner of the room. "Are you insinuating that girl is..._half human?_"

Abel just shrugged again, but there was a little bit of madness in his seemingly distracted gaze. "Just...thinking out loud..."

"That's...a hell of a random thought." his partner muttered and made a face as he considered the possibility himself. "_Is that even possible?_"

"Who knows? Just for shits and giggles I brought up Maza's history. She took maternity leave a few years ago to give birth to her daughter and, of course, she has an uncanny resemblance to that little girl. Same caramel skin, same long black hair, same eyes."

"Again with the eyes..." Dominic muttered under his breath. "Isn't that what you said earlier about the gargoyle with the white hair?"

"Yup."

He sighed, "Listen, I don't want to reiterate what some others have said about you throughout your long tenure at the bureau but it's hard to support some of these theories when they seem completely off the goddamned wall."

"Fair enough, young blood." Abel said. His young partner _had_ given him the benefit of the doubt their entire partnership, especially after hearing stories of crusty, maverick agent Abel Sykes and his penchant for standing proudly outside of the narrow FBI structure. "But I think my theory has merit...and I might have a way to prove it." His gaze swept back to the little girl at the table, and noticed her try and stifle a yawn. He approached the table and again, despite his knees, kneeled across from her. "So, sweetie, you getting tired?"

"I dunno." Trinity mumbled.

"Well, I'm going to get some blankets and a pillow and you can sleep on the couch behind you, okay? It'll be like a sleepover. Have you ever had a sleepover?"

Trinity turned and looked at the couch behind her. If only the agent had any idea of where she'd been sleeping for the last seven months. "Yuh..."

"I used have sleepovers when I was a kid." Abel continued despite his audience's indifference. "It was kind of scary sleeping somewhere instead of my own bed but I knew I would be safe because it was my friend's house. Well, there's a lot of nice policemen and women here, like my partner Dominic over there and that nice officer Karen who brought you in, and they'll all help keep you safe, okay?"

"...okay."

"I wouldn't suppose you could tell me your name, huh? You know my name. It's Abel."

She turned back but gave nothing in response.

And then, Abel tried something different. "Is your mommy's name Elisa?"

Trinity stopped coloring; as much as she tried to hide her intimate association to that name her tail-tip started darting about nervously, giving her away.

"Is she a police officer too?" Abel continued. "Maybe a detective?"

That tiny hand squeezed the crayon to the point it might snap.

"What's your daddy's name?"

"I'm not s'pposed t' tell!" she reared up and screamed at him.

But he was as unflappable as ever; inwardly he was a little pleased with himself he'd cracked through the stubborn facade. "Why?"

Tears were budding. "Because!"

"Why?"

The tears were falling freely now, making wet cheeks. "I'm not s'pposed t' tell..."

Abel nodded sympathetically. Someone had obviously taught this girl to keep her mouth shut but he could see the conflict playing out across those cherub features. "I know."

"I wanna see my mommy." Trinity pleaded.

"I wish I could take you to her but if you don't tell me who she is, I can't."

"She told me not t' tell..."

"I'm sure she did." he said sympathetically. "But I promise you, I won't tell anyone else."

Wiping away her tears with the palm of her hand Trinity revealed quietly, "My mommy's name is Elisa Maza. An' I wanna go home."

In the background Dominic simply rubbed a hand across his mouth, his eyebrows almost touching his hairline. His partner's track record at making far-reaching associations was getting eerily impressive.

In the wake of the revelation Abel simply smiled. "I promise I won't tell anyone. I don't suppose you'll tell me _your_ name...?"

"Trinity."

"Trinity...that's a pretty name." he said. "Trinity, I'm going to do my best to find your mommy. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Now I'm sure you're tired so why don't you put the crayons away and I'll get you those blankets and pillows–"

_BAM, BAM._

Everyone in the room nearly jumped out of their skin as the door rattled against a couple of hard knocks. Before either Abel or Dominic could react, protest or throw a blanket over Trinity the door was thrown open and Margot Yale forced her way into the room.

"Agent Sykes." she said coldly. "Rumor is you're keeping a little secret." She stopped short when she caught sight of Trinity. Her mouth fell open. "Good lord..."

"Oh damn..." Abel muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Agent Phillip Neville was next to push past everyone else, but dug his heels into the carpet when he saw the little girl huddled at the table. He almost teetered over with the momentum. He stared at Trinity for a moment before whispering, angrily, "You've got some brass, Sykes, keeping this from me."

"I was hoping to keep this quiet, considering we're surrounded by every reporter in New York." Abel explained. "And I knew exactly how you'd react, Neville. Like finding a cockroach in your salad."

"That's unfair, Sykes."

"That's not what your expression says..."

Neville immediately made an effort to flatten whatever expression had apparently curdled his thin features enough to be called out on and turned on Sykes. "How long has that girl been here?"

"About a few hours now. She was brought in by a couple officers investigating a break-in downtown. Turns out it was a lost, hungry girl."

Margot slowly wandered closer, bending over to better examine the girl on the floor. She was still wearing the same look of shock as she and Trinity locked eyes. "She's so little..." she whispered to herself. "And when did you plan to tell anyone else, agent Sykes?"

Abel turned to the woman, whose expression regarding Trinity didn't seem too fond. "When I knew exactly what we'd do with her and how she'd be treated."

"She'll be treated like any other lost child." Neville answered.

"I wish I could believe that. Just remember, she's in my care, Neville."

"And what gives you the authority to take care of a toddler? A _gargoyle_ toddler at that?"

"Because I said so." Abel said. "And because I made a promise to the others."

"The gargoyles? They elicit quite a lot of loyalty from you, Abel..."

He leaned in. "If you want me to be brutally honest, Neville, that girl is a great bargaining chip. I'm sure they'll think twice about doing anything stupid with a young gargoyle in our charge."

The face Neville made next was almost one of pride, maybe a mixture of astonishment that the two men actually agreed on something. "Yes, well, I didn't know you subscribed to that way of thinking."

He formed his best smarmy grin. "Your spinelessness is rubbing off on me, Phillip."

Neville just mock-smiled in response, knowing his counterpart was making fun of him. "Well, until we figure out what to do with her, keep her inside this room."

"That was the plan."

"We should go, Miss Yale, I'm sure you have a lot of work to do."

Margot straightened, gaze still lingering on Trinity and moved towards the door. "Yes, much work..."

As the room cleared, Dominic immediately sidled up to his partner. "She's a bargaining chip...? Pretty cold–"

"We need to find Elisa Maza," Abel cut him off, "_and fast_. If she's the biological mother, she's the only one whose custody supersedes our own."

"That's if Social Services deems her a fit mother. But is she willing to reveal herself as that girl's mother? In front of the entire world? Hell, for all we know she might've abandoned that kid."

Abel was already shaking his head before Dominic even finished the sentence. "No, no, no." he said adamantly. "I'm betting that woman would walk barefoot into hell for that little girl."

"Then where is she now?"

"I don't know. But maybe I should go to the source."

* * *

_Japan_

Her eyes fluttered and the world came into sharp focus. As the fine details coalesced she noticed she was back in the room where she gave birth; who knows how long it was ago. Despite the odd mixture of pain and numbness, she forced herself awake and tried to get a sense of her surroundings. There was movement to the side. She tried to speak but it came out as an incomprehensible, guttural moan.

"Elisa?"

She tried again. "...h-hello...?" Her throat was hoarse, and before she could even ask for it a glass of water appeared in front of her. The room's occupant helped her drink slowly and patiently. "Thank you..."

"Of course."

"...w-where's my daughter...?"

"She's right here." Sora appeared on the edge of Elisa's peripheral vision, holding something obviously precious to her chest.

"Sora...hi."

She smiled at the bedridden human, lamplight highlighting suede features. "I was elated to find you had given birth while we slept, and even more so that you had survived your surgery." As Elisa struggled to a slightly more elevated position despite the pain in her midsection, Sora quickly but carefully delivered her child into her waiting arms before the stubborn woman could hurt herself even more. "_Stop._ Please don't strain yourself."

But Elisa didn't care, gaze affixed to the little purple bundle. She looked much like Trinity did, just a muted lavender shade. "Hello, you."

"She's beautiful, Elisa-chan." Sora said.

"How is she...?"

"She seems fine."

"Don't sugarcoat the truth, Sora."

The smile faded and Sora clasped her hands together. "Perhaps you should ask doctor Pierce. And perhaps you should worry about yourself right now. You suffered greatly."

Elisa buried her face in Liberty's blankets, breathing in the clean scent of her newborn. The baby reacted to her mother with tiny searching hands. "My daughter is the priority."

"Elisa..."

"Where's everyone else?"

"Your family is resting. Some of them donated quite a lot of blood. I told them I would watch over you and your hatchling."

"Where's Pierce?"

"Here." Pierce jogged through the door, dirty labcoat trailing behind him. Unkempt and rumpled as usual, Elisa couldn't tell if he'd gotten any sleep or not but he had the uncanny ability to go without sleep for days it seemed.

"Doctor." she nodded at him.

He sidled up to Elisa's bedside and immediately stuck a couple of fingers to her neck, checking her pulse. "I heard voices. How're you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a bus." Elisa said. "But I assume the I.V. I'm currently attached to has a lot of fantastic drugs dulling the pain."

Pierce swiveled and adjusted the I.V. bag attached to the stand near Elisa's bed. "Oh yeah. By the way, don't move too much, you have a lot of stitches holding your midsection together."

Supporting Liberty with one arm Elisa moved her free hand down and over her stomach, feeling the heavy bandages keeping the rows of stitches protected and clean. A shudder wrinkled through her tired body. "What's the damage?"

His face creased as Pierce's usual genial expression went grim. "Elisa...you suffered a uterine rupture, a very serious one. After you delivered the baby we performed a laparotomy. We had to repair a lot of damage and we were able to avoid a total hysterectomy but..."

It was never good when your doctor trailed off. "But what...?" Elisa spurred him on.

He breathed heavily, "If you're lucky enough to conceive again I'm not sure you may be able to bring another baby to term without suffering a miscarriage...or something even worse."

Elisa took the news with a small chuckle, a weak smile and the air of someone who expected a bit of bad news. "I'm lucky to have two daughters. We'll tackle the future when it comes."

Pierce wasn't sure if Elisa's apparent blitheness was due to the heavy drugs or something else. "Maybe we should talk when you're a little more awake and in less pain."

"No need."

"Fair enough."

"What about my daughter, Pierce," Elisa asked, "is she all right?"

"She seems all right now expect for a slight case of anemia and dehydration, which we're countering with some special formula. I assume she'll want the real thing soon..."

Elisa felt her physician was holding something back. "But...?"

"I've done a newborn screening test, blood, hearing, sight, reflexes, congenital heart defects, the amount of oxygen in the blood, pulse rate, but everything seems relatively normal, at least compared to her big sister." He paused, observing the baby. "But if there're any lasting effects from the uterine rupture or whatever you went through, we might not know for a while until she gets older."

"I remember you telling me with my last pregnancy about the consequences. We'd just met and you almost made me cry."

"Well, those consequences are very real and very possible. I'll run more tests when we get back to New York."

Elisa's attention was finally torn from her daughter at the mention of her hometown. "New York..." she echoed. "It seems like forever ago." She looked imploringly at Sora. "Did you find anything?"

Sora opened her mouth to say something, _anything_, that could sway Elisa's fears but nothing came, and she shifted nervously. "No, I'm sorry." she managed. "Our warriors have searched as far as they could glide before sunrise but have turned up nothing. But they will keep looking."

She swung her head away, feeling a slight tug on her hair. Liberty was grabbing the free-falling strands of hair that drifted too close. Elisa gently stroked her daughter's cheek and bit back the welling emotion amplified by the dregs of anesthetic still swimming through her. She needed to be lucid. "Goliath and Trinity could be anywhere, and any_when_..."

"You have not come this far to lose them now, Elisa." Sora offered gently. "You will find them. Perhaps you should make contact with your clan. They might know more, and I'm sure they'll be overjoyed to hear from you."

She smiled. "Right now most of my clan is asleep. Besides, I need to know what's been happening while we've been gone. Sora, please get my family."

* * *

_New York, Queens_

Wherever they were going, it was well outside Manhattan.

Joseph had noticed the sun rise from the front window and was able to get a bearing as the truck lumbered through ever increasing morning traffic. The sound of airplanes was a dead giveaway; they must be near JFK airport.

Soon all he could see were streets upon streets of warehouses and after winding through the center the vehicle turned in front of a nondescript building. The driver didn't even need signal his arrival as the large garage door opened up and he drove right in. As the Illuminati agents emptied out the back, Hacker simply leaned against the interior and allowed them to pull Joseph's stretcher out and to the ground.

He glanced around. This was obviously one of the Guild's numerous safehouses. "Queens." Joseph said quietly.

"Yes, Queens." Hacker echoed from the truck. "A safehouse loaded with equipment and weapons and plenty of willing Guild agents waiting upstairs."

Joseph turned. "They're here?"

"Of course. Wasn't this part of your contingency plan? Meeting at one of your safehouses?"

"How many survived?"

Hacker raised his eyes. "Perhaps you should go see." He snapped his fingers and instantly one of the Illuminati agents produced a wheelchair.

Joseph was transferred from his bed and pushed into a small elevator. Rising to the third floor he was wheeled out into a large room and instantly, everyone gathered there stood up in his presence. He counted two dozen or so, and recognized a few including two of his elite inner circle, those agents lucky enough to be given an actual code name.

"Sir." agent Gray nodded, flanked by his wife agent Red.

"Is this all that's left?"

"We've heard from the other safehouses. There're a few more showing up. I counted at least two hundred survivors that made it out of the Bay, some were captured at Times Square, some were killed, but I don't know how many more will answer the cause after escaping the bunker."

He was nodding. "And the Elite?"

"Agent Gold is in Brooklyn, Agent Yellow in the Bronx."

Joseph lowered his head and wondered just how many more would show. He figured two hundred surviving the bunker's implosion was miraculous in itself; two hundred out of one thousand active agents. And then, a thought. "And...agent White?"

Agent Gray opened his mouth to answer but stumbled, until he was rescued.

"I'm here."

Joseph was first struck by the voice behind him; that flinty, sneering tone. He turned and saw another agent emerge from a room. Still wearing the featureless Guild mask, agent White slowly pulled it from his face. That same forehead scar, given to him by the tip of Hudson's sword, was prominent under his scowl. The man was staring at him, and for a moment it wasn't difficult to see the fleeting hint of frustration pass through his gaunt features. There was a nascent thought that he would've preferred his leader stay dead.

"Mr. Black. I'm surprised to see you survived."

"Agent White. I'm _glad_ to see you survived as well."

"Yes, sir. I had reason to claw my way from the bottom of the Bay."

"And what, pray tell, is that?"

"_Eradication._" The word slid from his mouth with an infuriated hiss. "We are beyond hiding in the shadows."

"Our benefactors have tasked us to end this war." he answered, and turned to put everyone in his sight of view. "I assume everyone here is willing."

They all stepped forward. These were the keen ones; if there were any deserters after the bunker exploded and flooded, they'd vanished into the populace, their anonymity like a golden ticket.

He returned his attentions to his second in command. There was still a heavy detachment hanging between the two of them. "Agent White, if I remember correctly, we had a little problem earlier."

"We did." he agreed. "Does that problem still exist? Will your family become an obstacle again?"

Joseph rubbed a few pensive fingers over his beard. Agent White was eagerly awaiting an answer and he could tell he was straining to keep his anger in check. "No." he said at length. "No they won't."

* * *

It'd been a long time since Titania had covered so much ground, seen so much of the mortal realm and not since the war with the Unseelie Court that she'd been forced to retreat. But her priority was Alexander and the phoenix's singular obsession with him.

Despite Titania's power the phoenix would not stop its pursuit of her grandson. Every time she tried to destroy the creature it would reform, every time she tried to divide it into thousands of slivers, it would reform. She'd already tried to teleport it away as great a distance as she could, but it kept coming back. She tried as many time periods as possible, millions or years into the past and the future, but it kept coming back. It had already traveled from one end of time to the other, sailing the threads like a great ocean and it knew the way back to this point intimately.

While this creature was familiar to her court and her kind, the extent of its power was never fully known, until now.

It was over the desolate plains of Australia that the phoenix caught up to them again, their pursuit having lasted hours. Titania knew her grandson was growing tired, his human half unable to be sustained by the magic he possessed. She needed to end this but was running out of ideas against an enemy that couldn't be bargained with, reasoned with or escaped from. She concentrated and drew a tidal wave worth of moisture from the dry air, trying to drown the creature but the phoenix shrugged it off. She clapped her hands and set off a small nuclear explosion, shoving all that power down its throat, but the phoenix bathed in the flames and howled at the Fay queen.

Titania retreated a few miles and whirled around sensing the phoenix right behind her. She held up a hand but the phoenix only stopped short when a shaft of light dropped in front of it.

Somehow, somewhere, a couple of spotlights shot down from the sky, swirling around them both. "_Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!_" a disembodied voice started narrating. "Welcome to sunny Australia! How many people are from the Great Sandy Desert?! It's so hot out here I saw a fire hydrant chasing a pack of dingoes!"

"What...?" Titania whispered, brows screwed.

A top hat of all things appeared in mid-air, floating between them.

"Alexander..." Titania said. "Is this your doing?"

He shook his head. Something felt familiar though.

The phoenix eyed the object curiously and before it could react, a gale force wind reached out from the inside of the hat. It was a tornado, the same kind that wiped out entire cities with three hundred mile per hour winds, sucking the phoenix into the storm and tearing it apart from the sheer speed and power. Ribbons of flame threaded through the funnel as the phoenix squawked and contorted and was pulled inside; the top hat vanished, leaving a silver-haired imp in its place. He bowed and ghostly applause whispered in the distant breeze.

Alexander's grin stretched from ear to ear on seeing their rescuer. "Uncle Owen!"

Puck turned with a flourish and met the boy's wide eyes. "Hello, my boy!"

"Dad said you ran away."

"The Puck never runs away! The Puck momentarily retreated after being injected with daddy's naughty nanobots. I had a heck of a time expelling those little beasties, let me tell you. You see–"

"_Puck._" Titania cut him off.

His minute attention span suddenly filled by the presence of Titania, Puck immediately bowed in mock-salute, almost doing a somersault in his haste. "My queen."

"What did you do? That thing cannot simply be banished to any particular point in time or space."

"Oh, but this particular spell isn't merely teleportation, it's a dimension within a dimension within hundreds more. A labyrinth of tesseract realities."

She pursed her lips, almond eyes narrowing. As much as she was grateful, there was a hint of envy in the Puck's particularly unorthodox and begrudgingly brilliant way of thinking that outshone the queen's. Though she knew she would've come up with a solution in the end, the Puck was much faster on the draw. "Thank you for your aid." she conceded.

He took the praise with understated glee. "How could I forget the resplendence of her majesty, she who unchained and restored my powers to their abundance behind her husband's back?"

Alexander looked at his grandmother in surprise. "_You_ helped Puck? But king Oberon said–"

"Never mind what Oberon said." Titania hushed him. "I needed the Puck to be at his best, but then he vanished and left you without a tutor and protector."

"Only because I was betrayed, my lady." Puck explained, excitedly whirling around them and pressing an index finger to his neck. "Injected and caged."

"Yes," she said darkly, "your employer has been busy."

Puck conjured a hammock, hung at each end on nothing but air and threw himself into the middle. "Of course, I can't blame the man." He was making sweeping, theatrical gestures with his hands as he spoke. "His wife was dying and a giant, rotting monster was manipulating him like a handsome, well-dressed puppet, I'm not surprised he resorted to some old-school trickery and deceit. I'm almost proud."

"But what does Xanatos have to do with the phoenix?"

"Nothing. The phoenix doesn't want Davey-boy, he wants Alex."

She looked down upon her grandson, huddled near her leg. This was the first time since last night he'd been able to catch his breath. "So I noticed, but what does it need from Alexander?"

"Didn't you hear it? _Freedom_. But sometimes freedom can only be gained by power. And Alexander is a fantastic little ginger battery."

"But there are larger sources of power in this world than Alexander."

"Are you sure? He is the grandson of Titania after all, and we all know what powers you've bestowed upon him." Titania's face tightened at the implication. "But perhaps there's something much more within my dear pupil here than just a fine heredity. Maybe the phoenix is a gourmet and has a taste for the peculiar."

"I do not find that amusing, Puck." she scolded her servant. He'd always tested the boundaries with the court of Avalon much to the chagrin of Oberon and, even with her greater patience, Titania herself.

He shrugged. "The phoenix has traveled through time, witnessed the beginning and the end. Perhaps he's seen something of Alexander we have not. Something much greater."

"We must find a way of dissuading the phoenix from its singular obsession with my grandson."

"I don't know. Freedom's one hell of a reason to hold a grudge." He picked at a fingernail and languidly turned his head. "Have you ever been locked in a cell? You'd be angry too."

"_Humans_." Titania seethed quietly. "They caged it to harness its power."

"Yes, and it stews for millennia hoping one day to be free from its masters."

"Then if we have no other choice, we must seal it again. Or destroy it."

But Puck reacted by sucking in a breath. His once shining eyes grew dark, his smile curled mischievously at the tips. "This is not Hera or someone of the Lost Race. You can't just disperse their essence across time and space. This is magic incarnate, ever-living, never-dying. It predates even the Children of Oberon, perhaps even the world itself."

"You need not educate me on this creature, Puck." Titania said, her frustration showing.

Puck jumped from his perch, the hammock spinning around until it vanished and swirled around his queen. "Oh, but I must, your majesty, I must. To know your enemy you must know its motivation. And if I were a slave for so long, I would make sure to prevent it from ever happening again."

"Gramma..." Alexander chirped. He wasn't fond of the tone of the conversation.

"Do not worry, child. We will find a way to help you."

"Then you'd better think fast, as our little friend is quickly navigating all my little fake realities as fast as he can flap his wings."

"Then perhaps a retreat is in order." Titania conceded. "We shall go to Avalon and wait for the beast there."

And with the announcement, Puck gritted his teeth and put on his best Woody Allen impression, all squirming and twitchy. The thought of facing Oberon wasn't a pleasant one. "Ah, my queen, perhaps there's another option–"

"That was not a request, Puck."

* * *

_Sunset, New York, Police headquarters_

The shards had barely finished raining to the carpet when the argument resumed between the clan, especially the two most vocal.

Desdemona quickly marched up to Angela. "I cannot believe you would risk so much."

Flicking the remnants of her stone skin from her shoulders and hair, Angela scowled in her direction. "If it means Trinity goes free, believe it."

"You would willingly put her in danger? You know what awaits us outside."

But Angela wasn't in the mood. "I don't care what you say, Desdemona, we're leaving _now_."

"No, you're not."

The clan all turned to the new voice. Sykes was already through the door and quickly closed it behind him in case the conversation drifted outside the room.

Angela couldn't disguise her reaction to the agent's sudden intrusion. "Agent Sykes."

Despite the fact he'd just heard them plotting to break out, he simply walked up to Angela and stood less than a few inches away. "Where's Elisa Maza?"

The room fell dead quiet, and the fact _that_ name just rolled over agent Sykes' tongue nearly gave Angela a mini-stroke. "_What...?_" she stammered.

"Where is Trinity's mother?" he reiterated.

"I don't–"

"Yes, you do." Abel kept digging, before the gargoyle could feign ignorance. "Trinity and I had a little talk, and she misses her mommy very much. Now where is she?"

"We don't know." Desdemona revealed, quickly, and ignored the dirty look from Angela. "She has been missing for a while now, along with her daughter."

He rubbed his chin, eyes down. "Damn..."

Cat out of the bag, Angela begrudgingly dropped the pretense. "She told you...? Trinity told you?"

"Yeah, but to her credit I had to pry."

"We need to see her...please..." she implored.

"Or you'll break out of here?"

"You've left us little choice."

"We _all_ have little choice." he sighed. "But I'll tell you right now, Trinity's presence here is becoming too well-known for my liking."

The body language in the room instantly changed, the air charged. For days now they'd been fed reassuring promises by this FBI agent and now those reassurances were faltering. "You said she was safe."

"That was last night." Abel said. "Things have changed."

"What _things?_" Othello's deep voice easily resonated through the room. His hands were clenching at his sides, proving his immediate dislike for this agent.

Abel turned to the dusty blue big one. He was wearing that same deep-rooted frown the last time he tried to strangle him. Veins started knotting his forearms. "The case against your leader is branching out." His voice was flat. "The prosecution is collecting evidence and they know about Trinity."

"Have you told them about her?" Lexington asked. He was still hunched on the edge of the couch, staring at Abel.

"Not the juicy bits. But there's a slim chance they'll find out if they dig deep enough."

"So we must leave," Othello barked, "_now._"

Abel put on his stern face, if anything to put up a brave front with the possibility of a serious disembowelment. "That's not going to happen, even if I let it happen. Do you know how many armed guards are surrounding this place? And the press will have a field day when they get you on camera escaping. That won't help your reputation."

"We do not care about our reputation, only our clan. And you have blathered enough. Your promises are hollow and I will not allow our hatchlings to come to harm."

"Do you want to be fugitives?"

"Many humans already think we are fugitives," Othello sneered, "if not animals and monsters."

"And if I allow you to see that little girl again, I can't help but wonder if you'd stay or would try to escape with her in tow. You can imagine the pickle I'm in."

"If we give you our word not to attempt escape," Desdemona offered, "would you allow us to see her?"

But Angela wasn't in the mood to make more deals. "You don't speak for this group and we will make no such agreement." she told Desdemona pointedly and turned back on Abel. "If you claim to care so much about her welfare you'll reunite her with her clan."

"Not everyone thinks that would be for her best interest." Abel said.

"That only proves my point."

"This is turning into a circular argument." he sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Right now the best thing for Trinity is to be reunited with her mother."

"And if she's not? Or taken away?"

"I don't know."

The irritation was obvious but Angela wasn't trying to conceal it, not in her expression, body language or annoyed tone of voice with a hint of throaty growl. "That is not reassuring, and that does not leave us with any other option."

"You attempt escape," Abel laid it out, "I can't help you."

"_There doesn't seem to be much difference._"

He blew a hard breath through his nostrils. "Fine. I've done as much as humanly possible to ensure your safety and that of the little girl in there. You decide to bust out, I can't be held accountable." And with that he turned and left the gargoyles to decide.

* * *

_Japan_

Her family had drifted in and out of the room ever since word spread Elisa was awake, each checking on their daughter, sister and sister-in-law and her newborn daughter. Despite the uncomfortable distance still lingering between Elisa and her parents, it went unsaid in the face of Liberty's presence and her successful birth. Beth couldn't wait to hold her niece and Derek and Maggie introduced their daughter April to her cousin; the little girl lit up at seeing the winged, lavender baby shift and gurgle at her touch.

After convincing them the baby needed to feed, Elisa was left alone, deep in thought while running her fingertips along the length of Liberty's soft wings.

Goliath once told her the rookery keepers would often massage the wings of the newly hatched to improve blood flow and look for any deformities that could be corrected before the next sunrise. And as a bonus it seemed to soothe her daughter, lulling her to sleep.

The room was so still and so quiet, it didn't take much to announce one's presence in the room. Elisa noticed the movement near the door quickly, expertly wearing the shadows like a cloak. Whoever it was was content to remain beyond the reach of the lanterns but she could just make out the familiar shape of mantled wings and hair like fire. "Back to normal I see." Elisa said.

Her identity revealed, Demona padded closer to the bed. "Hardly."

Elisa's eyes lowered to the bump in Demona's mid-section as she neared; it was a little more pronounced in her gargoyle form. "I don't know how I missed that."

"You were in a lot of pain, I suppose."

"I guess I missed a lot in the last seven months..."

"I assume your family has filled in the blanks."

Her head dropped, expression pained. "Yeah. The Guild attacked the castle, damaged the tank in which Delilah and Shadow's baby was in so Alex implanted it into you, the clan bombed the Guild's headquarters and the Guild retaliated by attacking Times Square, half the clan's in prison, Brooklyn's on trial, Fox is sick and presumed dying, Shadow ran off after killing those mobsters, Mother merged with part of the Matrix...and you apparently went slightly insane after trying to kill your younger self."

The gargoyle lifted one side of her mouth into a crooked smile. "Only for a while. I feel much better now."

Elisa somehow forced a chuckle, but it was fleeting. "Everything's gone to hell."

"Well, I have been warning all of you for a decade now." Demona said patronizingly. "But as much as I'm loathed to admit it's not as bad as you think."

"How so?"

"I have...a source."

Judging by the expression and the hipshot stance, Elisa figured Demona was enjoying being cryptic, as if she was returning the favor. "Of course you do. Damnit, Demona, do you know how much everything is screwed up right now? And Goliath and Trinity could be lost anywhere in time."

"Perhaps. But I've seen you face immeasurable odds with your insufferable optimism before, so where is it now?"

"Maybe it's dulled by the drugs." she said, looking down at the bundle that caused it all.

Creeping close enough to get a peek inside the blankets, Demona caught sight of the baby. The tiny girl bloomed with Goliath's lavender coloring, his wings and tail, but with a disturbingly human trace. Demona could see the extra finger and the dulled spurs on her flat ridges. "So, you and Goliath defiled nature once again. What is her name?"

"Liberty."

"Quaint." Demona hissed, rolling her eyes. "Another gargoyle named after a piece of New York property."

"Yeah, you seem to have an affinity for L.A." Elisa shot back.

That cracked the sarcastic facade and Demona turned, shadows deepening across her faint scowl. "_Cute_."

"Liberty Dominique Maza. Has a certain ring, don't you think?"

The scowl faded some. What Elisa said earlier could've been from the massive amounts of pain, but apparently it stuck. "Why would you name her after me?"

"Because both my daughter and I owe you our lives." Elisa explained, stroking Liberty's cap-covered head. "You've saved me twice now."

"The first time I did it for Angela, the second time for your child."

"And Liberty will always remember what you did. She'll remember that sacrifice for the rest of her life, and I can't think of a better lesson for a mother to teach her child."

Demona couldn't help but think of her own relationship with Angela. All the times she'd tried to make the young woman see _her_ version of the truth; she wondered just how much influence she'd had. And seeing Elisa holding her child was a painful reminder of the distance still between them, between all of her rookery children. "I...must leave."

Elisa looked up. "What, why?"

"I can't explain, but the farther away from you or anyone else the better." And then, before Elisa could comment on the implication behind that statement, Demona slipped away, barely making a sound. She was thankful not to encounter any of the Ishimura clan as she snaked her way through the temple and on exiting outside, found herself in one of the many smaller courtyards surrounding the temple.

Now, where to go? Where to run? Where to hide from what she knew was coming.

"I enjoyed the fireworks."

Demona whirled on the voice, wings instinctively flaring. She thought the familiar reek of Maza was due to her earlier visit, but instead she found Elisa's future self sitting at a stone bench near the fountain. "_You._"

"Yes, me." Still dressed in her kimono, she was lazily dragging her fingers through the water and making ripples in the glassy surface. Pulling her hand out, she flicked her fingers to dry them and raised her eyes to Demona. "So, I assume you met Liberty?"

"Yes."

"Cute, isn't she?"

"For a half human," Demona quietly and begrudgingly agreed, "I suppose."

Elisa let the opinion slide, if she was even listening. Being back here, she was drowning in the memories and reliving them so vividly she couldn't help but gush about a newborn that, to her, was almost twenty years old. "Of course, she'll go through some tough teenage years, including piercings and hair dye and chronic moodiness. Never easy being the middle child, especially with a unique medical condition–"

"Why are you still here?"

She cocked a brow at the sudden swerve in the conversation; although, it was already rather one-sided. "You sound angry."

"I am." Demona bristled. "Because I know what's coming next."

Elisa lifted her head and, like the rollercoaster car at the top of the highest peak, let it hang before slowly dropping into an understanding nod. "Yeah." she said. "Demona...I'm still here because I have one last thing to take care of."

"Is it helping me with my new problem?"

"I can't. I'm sorry. Nothing I can do can stop the events that will unfold, that _must_ enfold."

"You're saying that by guilting me into saving your past self and giving that psychotic version of Goliath the means to find me is an event that must enfold?"

"Yes." Elisa drew a circle in the air with her finger. "Remember, the circle must complete itself."

But Demona didn't care, especially in the face of a looming threat. "The magic I pulled from you will act like a beacon, practically inviting that beast to my door."

"Yeah, it will. He's coming."

"And what, pray tell, detective–"

"_Captain_, actually." Elisa coughed.

Demona swallowed the growl and continued. "What should I do now?"

Standing up, Elisa straightened her kimono and simply clasped her hands. "One final bit of advice, Demona. Trust in your clan."

She never expected Elisa Maza of all people to spout such rhetoric nonsense. Demona turned away and snorted, "Is that all?"

Elisa shook her head, wearing a strangely enigmatic grin. "No. Atlantis will rise."

She turned. "What...?"

But Elisa had already disappeared, in her place a small waft of steam soon decimated by a stiff breeze. She'd obviously returned to her own time, leaving Demona to ponder yet another cryptic warning. "Damn her."


End file.
